


penumbra

by atramento



Category: Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion
Genre: Comfort, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Reconciliation, Recovery, Touch-Starved, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:06:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25596253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atramento/pseuds/atramento
Summary: Millona and Corvus still love each other very much. But there is a wound between husband and wife; one caused by a curse.It needs time and their patience to heal over.
Relationships: Corvus Umbranox/Millona Umbranox
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7
Collections: Press Start VI





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [StopTalkingAtMe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StopTalkingAtMe/gifts).



Millona was awake before her eyes opened properly. She sighed heavily into the weight of her pillow; she had not taken herself for such a laborious sleeper at all. But that had been before Corvus had vanished behind that accursed mask. Not unlike how the last wisps of a snuffed candle vaporize into the air, so too did Corvus disappear. 

The source of what originally woke her sounded once more, a peal similar to the low rolling rumble of distant thunder beyond their cashmere curtains, but it was beside Millona herself; a halted rupturing before smacking its lips and turning over. 

It was Corvus' noisome snoring in his own slumber, their first night in the same bed after years.

Laughter would seem appropriate in this situation; a husband startling his wife out of her own rest with his snoring? It would not have been the first time in their marriage bed, nor would it have been the first time Millona would have roused her husband in the dead of night with her laughter. But Millona did not laugh, nor did any such notions even lift inside her chest. She stared at the man sleeping just a hair’s breadth away from her. She felt she would be lying to herself if she did not bear admission to feeling fearful. 

What if she tapped her Corvus’ shoulder and the masked man rose instead? The thought began to scare her badly-- enough that her imagination conjured the sight for her. Corvus’ face.... her husband’s face, clouded with nebulous mist no mortal could penetrate. Corvus’ voice, twisted and tangled before it reached her ears in a cacophony. Corvus, her Corvus--

Millona shuddered and finally placed a warm hand over the back of Corvus’ neck, grounding herself to the reality that indeed he had returned and was here. Even in his sleep he hummed pleasantly and leaned towards her touch-- and just like that Millona’s fear drifted away along with the imaginary man, becoming as harmless as the palm she pressed against her husband’s neck.

A deep breath and exhale. And then another. Recollection was an essential tool in the kit of any noblewoman; losing one’s composure amid court spelled disaster. And although this was their bedroom rather than the open Great Hall, it would not do for her to give in to the gnawing anxieties surrounding her husband’s sudden resurfacing. Even if every other servant of Anvil did and could; she could not. So that was that, she decided. 

But what now? She was unsure if she could return to dreaming-- let alone rest. 

As she pondered her hand slid down Corvus’ neck to between his shoulders, he twitched a little bit under her touch and Millona smiled despite herself. Had Corvus always been this reactionary to her touches or had time apart left him more wanting? 

Curiosity won over caution; Millona leaned over to graze her lips against the back of Corvus’s neck, near where the top of his left shoulder was. Instantly Corvus shivered in satisfaction, but still did not fully wake.

“Oh my dear Corvus...” Millona sighed, finally resting away from her husband’s body. “What am I ever to do with you?” 

She let her hands ease over her eyes as her torso nearly decompressed from a single, heavy sigh. The idea of Corvus being here now and existing (as opposed to not existing, Millona postulated) was still rather novel. 

What had Corvus done to cope with all that time? He must have yearned for her... How many times did Corvus reach out to her, calling for her? 

Just how many times had her glance turned aside from the ‘stranger’ in her midst? To say little of the confrontation just scant hours ago. ‘You have broken my heart for a second time.’ Through the mask, Millona had glimpsed an expression she failed to fathom at first, one delivered from her harsh words all the same.

Guilt seeped in steadily as she finally discerned how wounded that expression had been; did Corvus feel more upset at her accusation or the implications of the accusation itself? 

Either way, he was asleep and she was not. As long as Millona had known her husband, he was almost always able to put away his own fears and troubles for another’s. He did not worry-- no, Corvus planned and sidestepped and always made due with whatever he had. 

She was not so sure though this time how much could be done. The history of the mask had been patched, according to Corvus himself, but the years they had spent apart was time no scroll or magic could effortlessly mend. And yes, he had rid himself of that accursed cowl; but Millona wondered just how much of his former shadow life had truly been done away with. Grime such as that settled in and it was not a sort of filth to be easily wiped away with words.

Her eyes bore into Corvus’s side and how it slowly rose before slumping. Maybe she would never recover from his absence. Could she possibly have to spend many sleepless nights such as these for the rest of her life? Millona was not so sure that she would, in all truth.

When Corvus got up at the coming of dawn, Millona was already out to greet the court. She could hardly profess that she had been unable to go back to sleep, haunted with thoughts too great and filled with him, cowls, and ancient scrolls.


	2. Chapter 2

Millona wasted little time resuming her prior routine of rising at precisely the moment the sun started peeking past the curtains. To his credit, Corvus seemed largely unaffected that his wife had risen from their bed rather quaint and entirely too early. He even made a point to arise with her, a placid smile upon his face. She could only imagine how drowsy and dazed he was. 

Either way, she undressed out of her negligee and fit into her linen and corset. It was a contrite leather piece of work; but Millona had staunchly refused for the last ten years to enlist the aid of any servant within Castle Anvil’s halls. It was her own personal satisfaction. She could not find her husband but at least she could dress herself into her own clothes.

“Millie, let me help you.” Corvus started off of the bed, disrupting Millona’s intellection. She made a face as he came to stand behind her still in his bedclothes and began fiddling with the laces on her corset. “These things are... hm... it’s just a matter of...” 

She sighed. “Corvus... it’s alright.” He muttered a small disagreement and kept trying to make any sort of sense about the strings. Corvus then started to tie them all as tightly as he could only for his strict handiwork to undo as soon as he released his grip. 

“Ah, blasted--” Corvus now sounded as frustrated as she currently felt.

“I can tie these _myself_ Corvus, I’ve done it for ten years now.” Her husband’s nimble if ultimately meandering hands pause and that is all it takes for Millona to feel a slight reproach creeping in. _He only meant well..._ Millona cleared her throat, attempting to subside her voice. “You can help me with my necklace though if you like.” 

A rumbling chuckle came from her right shoulder. “Of course, my dear... which necklace precisely though?” She hummed idly before sweeping her fingers loosely over the dresser they stood by. 

“I don’t have a particularly strong mood; you may pick one if you desire.” Apparently her words left Corvus at a loss, for she saw in the corner of her vision Corvus’ calloused yet slender fingers ponder. He lightly raked his nails against the top of her dresser once or twice before plucking a ring and a necklace. 

Millona smirked a little. “Feeling a bit of cunning, are we?” She could not help herself giggling girlishly as Corvus kissed her hand before sliding on the ring. It tickled her finger slightly from the angle he was working from, though her laughter faded once she realized just what the ring was. 

It was the ring Corvus had given to her as a promise before their wedding. She could remember the occasion vividly though it had been longer than ten years prior. Her breathing shuddered moderately and she stared at the ring until her eyes saw a small green glowing halo around the top of the band. “C-Corvus...” Her voice was stifled. 

“Do you remember, Millie? I do.” Corvus slid the necklace up to her collar bone proper and she could feel his fingers working to secure the jewelry against the little hairs of her neck. “We were sitting in the countryside-- the hill overlooking Anvil. The fennel and goldenrod in bloom...” His voice was low and leveled, close to her ears and neck. It was very intimate and a part of that frightened Millona. 

The countess sighed and nonetheless rested a hand onto Corvus’s arm. So warm and near... “You kept _sneezing_ , Corvus-- I could never forget.” She closed her eyes, picturing Corvus’s nose wrinkling behind her and giggling as she remembered _that_ part of their promise and not the more romantic moment of it he clearly wanted to savor.

“And...” His voice was flush against her ear. “I avowed to you that I would marry you, Millona Luceat, regardless of if I received your father’s blessing.” 

She smiled at the memory as well as shivering at Corvus’ voice so close once more. “We never looked back, did we Corvus dear?” He kissed her just under the ear and upon her jaw before speaking again. 

“No Millie, we did not. And were I given a chance, my gaze would nary turn a second time.” Millona closed her eyes, her smile fading. No, Corvus had not gone astray with other lovers or political schemes; of that she could be thankful. But that mask, that damnable mask...! Why had _it_ averted her husband’s loving eyes? 

“Millie... I can guess at this silence...” Corvus sighed into the dip of her shoulder. “I.... I suppose this _is_ my chance. My second chance, as it were.” The silence she gave him after was painful-- but Corvus’s unspoken guilt doubly so. Millona finally broke their fond embrace to fetch her courtly dress. 

“Millie...” Corvus implored as the countess adorned herself in the lavish yet familiar blue fabric. “Let me not stray far from your side again, lest the Nine strike me down themselves.” Millona, almost fully dressed, turned to her husband.

“If you’re not wanting to stray, you’d best get dressed, Corvus.” She tried to keep her expression dignified and neutral but found that she cracked a smile as her significant other’s eyes widened and he hastily reached for his own wardrobe.


	3. Chapter 3

Millona found the tapping was incessant in its drumming beat by the time Colin showed with the first plates of the dinner meal. Maybe it was not Corvus’ fault directly but the countess had considered, in this lingering interim of time, to perhaps snatch her husband’s fingers and hold them so rigid as to pinch them together a bit. That would be hardly cultivated of her, though _highly_ tempting. 

It was Corvus himself who finally broke the rapture of nails on wood, leaning off of his other hand to stare at the finery and dinner placed before him. 

“Dinner time... Millie, this meal could not have come soon enough.” He stared at her as if waiting for an answer before he could eat proper. How upset would Corvus be if she voiced the same exact opinion? 

She decided not to chance any sort of lashing words-- or risk Corvus’ now bruised ego. “Take it upon yourself not to be so harsh, dear... it’s been ten _years_ at the least since you last officiated within the court.” Finally her hand could naturally rest over the errant tapping digits. To her slight annoyance however, Corvus looked neither placated by her words nor ready to call off the favored diversion of pattering fingers on the fine but worn mahogany table. 

His other hand came up to fulfill the call. Millona resisted an eye twitch and smiled up at her displeased significant other. “Mistakes will happen! You’re just now returning--” 

Corvus shook his head slowly. “I should know better Millie, I’m the count. This is in my blood, my history. What would Fasil Umbranox say?! Oh, the words I would have for myself, the fool who would bothered to even consider the mask or that confounded guild--” She was surprised by the open-- well, _relatively_ open-- mention of the ghostly thieves’ guild she heard of in passing until Corvus freed himself from the mask. 

Still, she had to try and appease him somehow. “Corvus--” Millona began but was stifled by Corvus wringing his hands with a loud enough grunt. It was less frustrating than the tapping but still vexing in its own right.

“You know I am right, Millona... I never should have said what I said-- and in such a sloppy ill-conceived manner!” His fists both pounded the table and Beatrice walking nearby startled. “Damn! Of all the foundering in the world today, I had to be the lousiest...!” Millona felt a deep ridge in her spine that divided between wanting to soothe Corvus on his clear insecurity and wanting to berate him for holding a tantrum as a child does when he does not get a sweetroll earlier than dinner.

“What I _know_ , Corvus Umbranox, is that you’re being irrational.” Millona made sure to try and keep her voice firm as she stood. “And-- and the Corvus _I_ know, would not let such things as a misstep trifle him!” She tried, anyways. The emotion stuck in her throat like a piece of food, but neither of them had even touched their meal yet.

Corvus’s gaze flickered between something akin to awe and hurt as he watched her stand. “Millona...” He said more quietly. When she promptly turned from the table to begin walking away, Corvus’s voice lifted. “Millie...” More insistence, an edge of desperation. “Millie..!” Corvus got up and followed after her.

She resisted the urge to stop and let him catch her. Why was she even leaving? Was that not _more_ dramatic and confounding than Corvus being upset? 

A painful swallow of her dry throat as she tried to rationalize her racing mind. She was upset too; Corvus had only barely been listening to her all day long. It was completely as infuriating as it was somehow endearing. “Millie, please, I-- I’m sorry!” Corvus cried out.

She stopped. Was it Corvus’ anguished voice or was it _her_ own unwillingness to let a ten year wound fester and destroy their marriage? “Millie....” She did not need to turn around to know how upset Corvus was now. 

“You are right.” He admitted softly, his footsteps hardly making a sound upon the rug over the cold stone floor. A heavy sigh that the couple shared as Corvus caught up and rested his hands on her shoulders. “You always were right.” 

She turned around, wobbling slightly as her eyes watered. “Corvus...” She sniffled. “I don’t want to be right this time... about... you... about... us....”

His arms were warm and just tight enough in their embrace as Millona clutched at her husband’s finery. Oh, what a scene she was making, no doubt! What would the others say? To hell with them! She was upset! This internal battle waged until it finally stopped abruptly with Corvus stroking a loving hand through her hair. “Millie... cry no more... please.” He murmured, fingers stroking her scalp slowly. 

She looked up through her quivering tears. “Come on. Let’s go somewhere else Millie. We...” His warm smile faltered a bit. “We need to talk.” 


	4. Chapter 4

Corvus led Millona out of the dining hall and into the smithy. While this decision confused her at first-- the smithy was _hardly_ private with Orrin and his assistants busied with work-- she quickly realized he was leading her to a seeming dead end to reach for one of the wall decorations. Was this...?

He kept his arm close around Millona as the wall opened up to a slightly gloomy but well concealed passage. She looked back in time to see Orrin pointedly keeping his back turned to the two of them as they slipped inside. Corvus turned to pull the other side of the wall decoration and it slid out as the wall restored itself. So much secrecy, right under her nose! If she had not been already upset from everything prior, she would have given Corvus an earful about this. 

“We’ll go to our room.” Corvus uttered low, with all the sacrilegious reverence of speaking during chapel lessons. “We can speak more freely there.” 

A sudden burst of indignation compelled her to gently push Corvus away and hotly glare at him. “Now hold on...” Corvus stopped obligingly. “What are we going to talk about exactly? Your gaffe or my... my... _feelings_?” She struggled the word out. It sounded ridiculous and overmuch trite when she did. 

His eyes narrowed and momentarily Millona’s chest froze with thoughts of Corvus being unable to recognize _her_ this time, mask or no mask. Or worse, recognizing her as dead weight rather than his loving, gods-fearing wife. The moment passed when Corvus cupped her face with the tenderest of touches. “Millie, we can talk about whatever your heart desires and I would listen with rapt attention. However... I have a feeling I know what we both wish to talk about.” 

She could not help but notice how Corvus’ fingers curled on her cheek slightly as he spoke. Even when they were focused on something so serious as their relationship troubles, Corvus took the time to be gentle and intimate. She sighed. 

“Yes, I do as well. Corvus--” She mimicked his gesture and he leaned into the touch. “...it’s been so long since we’ve just... talked.. and we’re already trying to jostle one another back into a routine. Is that... normal?” 

“No. But we’re not normal, Millie.” Corvus shook his head. “I... have fallen out of step with the dance that is Anvil’s court.” She could see the worry in his eyes and the smile he currently held seemed more anxious than mischievous. “What I said back there though... that was paltry compared to the dance we’ve both begun to forget. The dance we started for two. For us.” The former thief swallowed, leaning into Millona and resting his head on her shoulder. “But gods, do I want to keep dancing with you, Millie.” 

The unspoken _Do you want to keep dancing with me?_ lingered heavy in the air, though Corvus would not voice his question; an admittedly difficult question. Ten years was a long time to wait for anyone... and sometimes Millona had considered a new husband for the bed, she had to admit to herself with renewed disdain. But there was no one like Corvus, not at all. 

Millona started to give her answer by running a hand through Corvus’ dark hair and letting her fingers lovingly rake the nape of his neck before settling in the dip of his shoulders. Corvus shivered and glanced up; she could see the tears pricking his eyes. Her left hand was still cupped against his cheek but lifted to mimic the motions and rest by the side of her right. His skin was warm under the finery. “Millie...” 

“Corvus...” Her voice was soft, flickering like candle light. “I want to keep dancing too. I started this dance with you... and by the Nine I shall finish it with you t-too.” Now they were both teary.


	5. Chapter 5

Neither countess nor husband planned to return to dinner that night; it was agreed that the appetite for food would have to be sated later. 

For now though, Corvus had changed out of his rich umber clothing into some lighter and perhaps more roguish clothing. Millona was merely stripped of her heavy blue dress and the corset, leaving her in those breezy linens. She felt starkly exposed this way despite still wearing something that was not sheer, as well as the necklace and ring Corvus had put upon her this morning. 

Perhaps this whole moment was silly. Perhaps it was also a touch addled and utterly foolish, to stand waking in undergarments even in the comfort of one’s own room. Perhaps more so to start dancing as though there were musicians playing in their bedroom chambers. 

Corvus proceeded anyway, placing one familiar hand on Millona’s waist and the other taking the lead of her right hand. She answered by letting her free hand take place upon the adjacent shoulder. He started a spirited waltz immediately and Millona at first found it difficult to keep pace. They nearly tripped a few times; once Corvus nearly turned himself into their bed. 

But continue they did, until it was as though they were amid a party and everyone would be having their eyes upon Lord Corvus and Lady Millona Umbranox, dancing in their bedclothes. The imagery alone made Millona stifle a giggle. 

“I love this.” Corvus muttered, his lips returning to a crooked grin. “But then, I love seeing you smile, Millie.” 

She raised a brow, smiling a bit herself. “Is that so, my dear?” 

“Very much so.” He replied without wasting a space of silence between them. “What I lack in propriety I supplement with an undying desire to see you smiling.” He laughed as he spun her around the room; her linens billowing. 

“Whoaaa!” Millona clung to him, the unexpected twirl frightening her. When she was set down she looked up at him from under the crook of his neck, eyes narrowing and grin widening. 

“Scoundrel!” She giggled before she could stifle the immense buoyancy she felt. “Warn me next time!” 

He giggled along with her. “You and I both know I won’t... that is part of our fun!” As if to prove his point he spun her again without provocation, higher, and this time she merely let out a small whoop before stepping back into the dance as her feet landed. 

“You make a natural, Millona Luceat.” Corvus’s eyes twinkled warmly. 

Her eyelids drooped. “You make a bad influence, Corvus Umbranox.” 

He laughed. “The gods find me guilty of this as well, but you know?” He leaned to whisper coquettishly in her ear. “I accept the blame of this charge. I do not regret a single moment spent with you.” 

Millona’s smile could not get any wider. “And I do not regret a moment of time with you. Though... I do hope you plan on staying longer this time.” Corvus flinched and Millona felt a stab of guilt. She had never been good at jokes like Corvus was, she was far too austere. “Corvus..” She whispered and his eyes perked to look directly at her.

“I’m sorry. That was meant to be a joke, but it was in poor taste.” Their dancing slowed as Corvus considered his response. 

“Your humor has always been that kind of dry, love.” Corvus shook his head. “No... it hurts because it’s also true.” He stopped the dance entirely. 

“Corvus, I didn’t mean to-- I-- please don’t stop...” Millona whimpered. There was a moment of silence before Corvus started a much slower, more thoughtful step. 

“Millona... I just thought of how... how much you knew and the much more you  _ didn’t  _ know.” He sighed. “And how much you suffered waiting for me. I made myself watch when you could only see me as a stranger.” 

“But you’re not a stranger; you’re my husband!” Millona rested her head against his chest. “And I love you still Corvus.” 

Her husband’s smile was tender if reticent. “A husband that has left you ten years cold, Millie.” 

“And the only man who could ever possibly reignite this cold hearth...” Millona took one of his hands into hers. “Do you accept that challenge, Corvus Umbranox?” 

“I do.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boy oh boy, what an effort this was! But it was fun, too!   
> I really underestimated the potential of this pairing until I started to really delve into this fic. Perhaps a companion/sequel piece is in order? Hmm...  
> Either way-- I hope you, dear recipient, enjoyed this fic! It was loads of fun to write, as I said!


End file.
